Dear Agony
by Jedimaster1999
Summary: Clintasha based AU. Its now a year after Hydra infiltrated Shield and the now married couple, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, find themselves constantly battling Hydra, and doing all it takes to save Shield and each other. After a mission gone terribly wrong, they find themselves separated and heartbroken. While one is killed, the other is left to live a painful life alone.
1. I Will Not Bow

**Alright hi everyone! Wow it has been an extremely long time since I have published anything...school kinda happened and all. But anyway I'm kinda back, but my writing on here is so unpredictable so I really don't know when I'm going to be updating existing stories and when but yeah.**

**Now onto this new story, just a few disclaimers. I have been working on this one chapter for about 2 months XD that may be why it's ridiculously long! Also the action in this chapter may not be great, I'm not great at writing action, but it leads up to what the overall plot of the story will be.**

**Also as anyone who has read any other of my stories...I am not a happy author LOL! What I mean is my writing usually deals with Angst, Tragedy, Hurt, Comfort, Loss, Pain, yeah anything emotional and feelsy, at least that's what I aim for (to torture you all! JKJK. But yeah, if you do not want to be remotely saddened I suggest you don't read this then. Though this chapter isn't bad, it just leads into the sadness I guess.**

**Last of all I'm still really not a great writer...I'm really not. I just do it because I'm either bored or want to share this idea. But anyway I tried my best, please don't be too critical.**

**Anyway yeah so enjoy this little Clintasha fanfic filled with feels and uh yeah. I have no idea if I'm going to continue this at all, or just leave it as a two shot, I mean if you guys like it I may consider doing a little more with this fanfic, but it's not really gonna be in chronological order if I do continue. Please tell me your thoughts and leave a review. :)**

**I am posting the second chapter in a moment along with this one, just because I've finished it and I don't want to leave you in total suspense! **

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**The story is rated T for mild language once and awhile and mature and intense content. **

**All rights to characters go to Marvel and Disney.**

**This is an AU so...yeah things won't exactly be canon. **

**There is significance to the title and each of the chapters title and quotes. I kinda don't want to reveal the connection, but will be curious to see if anyone sees it, good for you. **

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I will not bow  
I will not break  
I will shut the world away  
I will not fall  
I will not fade  
I will take your breath away

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_It had been a little over a year since Hydra had collapsed Shield, and Nick Fury and the Avengers were still out, fighting to bring down the ancient Nazi developed agency. Clint Barton, Hawkeye and his partner (and wife) Natasha Romanoff, The Black Widow, are sent into an old Shield building to try and retrieve old files that they couldn't afford Hydra to get ahold of. But there is an unexpected battalion of Hydra soldiers awaiting them there. The two Assassins are nearly Ambushed and while Natasha tries to find the file, Clint rushes to try and contact Shield for back up._

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There Natasha stood, with Hydra enemies advancing towards her from each side and not a single person to help her fight them off. She had made it to the top level of the hijacked Shield building only to be ambushed by over 30 Hydra soldiers just waiting to take her down. Of course being the Black Widow she could handle her own, but seeing she was already injured and facing 30 men trained almost as much as she was, she didn't know how long she could hold them off. For she knew she wasn't going to make it out of this one, nor did she plan to, she just had to hold them off for Clint.

Gritting her jaw as she ruthlessly dodged bullets, sliding to the hard building floor in a split second she shot her arms up as she did to release a rain of pounding bullets, shooting anyone who advanced towards her. They all shot at her, kicked her, or attacked her in anyway that they could. Being a great hand to hand combatant she easily kicked right back at them, kicking them square in the head and knocking several men out before she sent a bullet through their skull without even a seconds hesitation. She wasn't here to give pity nor mercy to these Hydra soldiers, no they were there to kill her, and she would do the same.

While she was plowing through many of them either by bullet or by her own hand, more soldiers seemed to be piling onto that top level with even more lethal weapons. Natasha was aiming at one man when she saw another man aiming right at her out of the corner of her eye. Acting at lightning speed the young assassin ducked the bullet that whizzed right over her head as she pulled the trigger and shot another man. It was as she did that did she extend her long leg and easily trip another advancing soldier to the ground only to shoot him in the head before he fell completely. But she couldn't take them all, and as she aimed to shoot another man she felt a sudden thrust of searing pain run right into her side.

Taking just a glance downward as she aimed again she saw a metal bullet had run right into her left side, digging a hole in her side below her rib cage. Since she was moving as the bullet hit her, it didn't seem to have caused immediate fatal damage, but it surely weakened her quickly for soon an endless gush of red blood ran right from her side. It slowed her down and with every move, wether to shoot or dodge a bullet, a wave of pain ran over her. Her eyes narrowed as she beared right through the pain and wave of weakness that feel over her, for she knew if she gave in, even for a second, she'd be done for.

But how much longer could she really last, for it didn't seem the reinforcements of Hydra soldiers was slowing, and if things were going as they should have, Clint would have contacted Shield by now. Yet there was still no sign of the agency or Clint. She couldn't afford to try and call him on her own for if she stopped her fight for a second she'd die before she could make the call. It was as she felt another bullet run right through her leg, breaking the bone in half, did the agile assassin fall over with a hard blow to the ground.

The gunfire and battle seemed to sudden cease as she opened her eyes, which threatened to begin to water due to pain racing through her. Her vision was blurry and distorted as she was on the verge of going unconscious due to the blood loss, but she wasn't that weak. She was able to prop herself up against a wall even with the bullet wound in her side growing worse and her leg completely snapped in half. Her eyes grew sharp, piercing, and cold as she lifted her head and looked to the scene around her.

It seemed the gunfire had stopped for now and more than half the men left the room. She assumed it was that they thought the battle done, and only a few men were needed to finish her off. She was completely unable to stand nor walk, and was just about defenseless. That wouldn't stop the assassin though for just as she glared the man who shot her she raised her arm and shot another soldier. Realizing she wasn't completely crippled, the man who looked to be the leader of this Hydra unit raced forward and kicker her square in the head, then turned around to shoot the gun right out of her hand. But of course being a master Assassin she never had just one gun, yet as she reached for her next weapon a bullet dug into her hand and she felt a sudden blow to her side. The large leader had kicked her in the side, and seemed to have caught her by surprise for once.

The gruff man had a scarred face and a devilish look in his eyes as his hard boot kicked right into her injured side once again, making her wince and grunt in pain, and topple over completely onto the ground that was now soaked with her own blood. Coughing up a small amount of crimson liquid the red haired women expressed nearly none of the pain she was actually in as she held their brutal stares. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction they craved, even if they were to kill her right then and there, she would never show them weakness.

With that the men backed up, all with great smirks upon their face for thinking they actually would bring an end to The Black Widow. The leader bore his own ruthless gaze right at her, without a drop of empathy in his eyes as he clicked his own gun and raised the pistol, aiming directly at her head.

"Any last words, Widow?" He nearly growled as his finger was placed, ready to pull the trigger that would end her life in an instant.

With the same fire in her eyes the assassin spat right back at them, her Russian accent thick and her voice cold and spiteful,

"Пошел на хуй! Even if you kill me, it won't matter in the end. I'm just one agent out of many, you'll never win."

The men simply chuckled in a brutal way, but just as he was a millisecond from firing the bullet something stopped him. For in that split second a silver arrow shot right through the space between the doorway and the man and it hit him square in the back of his chest. Dropping the gun to the floor all attention was soon turned to the one who let loose the arrow as the gunfire started up again.

The archer was none other than Clint, who had seemed to have come back for Natasha, even though she told him very clearly not to. But that was Clint, stubborn as hell, but all for the right intentions. Natasha couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and even compassion fill her when she saw the arrow hit it's target as she extended her arm and took the gun from Clint's victim to use it to help him shoot down the remaining Hydra soldiers. Since most of them fled the room when thinking the battle was done, it was fairly easy to take the rest of them down, especially because they were unprepared.

It was right after Clint released an arrow towards the last standing Hydra soldier's skull did he turn around on a dime and run right over to Natasha who still laid on the ground, yet also still had a gun raised and eyes locked on her last target which she shot moments ago. But the rage in her eyes seemed to fade instantly the moment she looked upon Clint who was now at the point of kneeling down right beside her, his grey blue eyes filled with worry as he placed a firm and strong yet warm hand on her to help her sit up against the wall. She wasn't ashamed to let out a small wince in pain, not around him, at least. For they were both injured badly, and she never was ashamed to do anything around Clint, that was unless she was trying to impress him or such. But in situations like this, where the two assassins were caught in fatal situations, they tended to just be as strong as they needed to be.

Clint was not in good shape either, he had a bullet in his shoulder and a large cut on his upper arm, which seemed to be almost down to the bone. Yet he could still fight and shoot just as well as always, and didn't seem to be slowed down by his injuries in battle. But now he was heaving for breaths, blood pouring out of his deep wound and staining his black shield suit, yet he kept a strong hold for Natasha. He couldn't help but cock the smallest of smiles at the thought of being with her, when he also thought he wouldn't make it out of the building alive. His shoulder wound didn't seem to extreme, but he did loose a lot of blood from each injury. He also had several bruises and smaller incisions all over his arms and legs, but he ignored it all right now to look at Natasha.

The young women while tough as nails was not nearly in the shape he was. Blood gushed endlessly from her sides, and while he placed both of his hands, applying a great amount of pressure to the wound to try and make the bleeding slow, it was useless. Her bleeding leg and hand were not helping either, for the longer she sat there, the longer she could feel her strength leaving her. Clint eventually settled to keeping one steady hand on her side as he let his other hand raise to very gently stroke the side of her face.

"Nat, you really got yourself beat up here...I'd hate to see what the other guy looks like." He said with a small hint of dry sarcastic lightness in his voice, yet it was loving and worried as well.

While her face was pale she was still conscious and she couldn't help let out a huff of what was meant to be a laugh, as her green eyes met his grey ones as she spoke up in a strained yet equally as sarcastic voice,

"Well, all the other guys are dead. But Clint, did you contact Shield?"

Looking up at the glass window out to the war torn sky before looking back her and answering in his usually calm yet still very firm tone "Yeah, they said they are sending jets and reinforcements right away, but you know, who knows how long it's going to take for them to get here. They said to blow the building if we can't hold it."

Raising a thin eyebrow she looked up at him and asked quickly, "But if you haven't noticed...You didn't blow it ..."

He let out a small chuckle and stood up to retrieve the arrows from his victims after feeling assured Natasha was alright for the moment,

"Well of course not, we're still in it after all. But I do have the detonator, if for some reason we have to blow it, well one click of the button and this building will go up in flames."

He walked back to her and looked her right in the eye, his own eyes still steady and firm, as they always were in the heat of battle, but also loving in a way that wasn't obvious, for only she could see the gleaming warm glow of love in his eyes as he placed a steady hand on her thin shoulder.

"We'll be alright Nat, Shield is on their way, and it seems we dealt with nearly half the Hydra units. But Hydra is so unorganized and thickheaded, they'll forget all about us and go after those files."

Natasha gaze him an almost disapproved look as she spoke up quickly in her usual fiery tone, "And that's exactly what we DON'T want them to do. Damn it Clint, if they get those god forsaken files, this whole mission would be for nothing, we'd be better off blowing the building up now while we still can."

Clint shook his head and rebuked her instantly as he threw his hands up and he said quickly yet all with a certain glare of love in his eyes,

"Ah before you go all angry Russian on me, let me finish. I said they would, "go after the files." I don't think they will ever get to them though. See why it took me so long to get back up here and "rescue you" is because I put an encryption code on all the files under the name Shield gave us at the beginning of this mission. Only Alpha Shield Agents will be able to open it now, so it's safe from Hydra, even if they can get their hands on the file itself."

She nodded and said back with a small amount of doubt in her eyes,

"Not bad Clint, though I was handling the situation just fine so I think "rescue" is a bit of an overstatement. But...what good will that do if the building blows like Shield told you to do. The files will be destroyed anyway."

Clint gave a small smirk and put his hand in his suits pocket only to pull out a Shield USB drive, and handed it to her.

"That's why I put the files on this drive, because we probably will have to blow the building, but I say we try and get out of it first." He said as he slung his black bow over his back and looked at her.

He then couldn't help but press a strong yet gentle hand on her shoulder as he looked from her legs to her bleeding side, his brows furrowed and his eyes serious. Natasha smiled softly and placed a hand on Clint's shoulder in return as she pushed him jokingly.

"I'll be fine Clint, you've seen me much worse anyway." She said as she watched him reach for a small first aid kit in his suits pocket.

"Well I'm not taking any chances, this battle isn't over anyway." He said and while there was a lightness in his voice, there was also a dead serious ring to it.

He knew something wasn't right, they wouldn't just leave them up here, even if they were trying to break the file, someone would have had come up by now to finish them off. But just as Clint thought this through it happened. The door slammed open and dozens upon dozens of Hydra soldiers flooded in, guns aimed, and the most elite group of fighters at the front.

Clint tightened his jaw as he stood up at the speed of light, his arm grabbing an arrow right out of his quiver and pulling it into place on his bow as he shot it right at the soldier in the front before they could even act.

Yet while one soldier fell by the archer's hand, another shot right at the Russian assassin who lay under the archer who aimed and shot again. He looked over the crowd of soldiers as he loaded another arrow and dodged a bullet, yet just as he dodged that one another bullet hit him in his other good arm.

He grunted for the bullet nearly broke the bone yet he still held his bow. He looked around and a haunting realization grew over him, Hydra wasn't stupid. They were waiting for reinforcements to engage the two Shield agents, to ambush them and make sure they died. There was no way fight out of this, for nearly half of Hydras troops were in this building, shooting or preparing to attack the two assassins.

Yet Clint kept fighting, only for a few more moments though, for suddenly a bullet hit Natasha right in the chest and the red haired assassin passed out right beneath the archer. Realizing his wife could may as well be dead he shot the soldier who shot her, ducked beneath the gunfire and grabbed her swiftly in his strong arms.

He knew he didn't have many choices, but he knew one thing was for sure, if half of Hydra's army was in this building, then he wasn't going to miss such an opportunity, though saving Natasha was his number one priority. As he felt a bullet break through his suit and pierce the skin on his back he ran with Natasha still firmly in his arms, right towards the glass windows behind him and with putting his shoulder forward as he ran he crashed right through the glass.

He felt sharp glass run right into his arms but the pain was almost bearable for it was nothing compared to the several other bullets that shot into his arm and back just before he began to fall, and then the rest seemed like slow motion.

Falling right out the window Clint felt the gravity pull him downward, as he tried to keep hold of Natasha and his bow. She was unconscious and bleeding out but from what he could see was still breathing, yet he still had to keep a good hold on her. Despite being shot and cut in that arm, it seemed his injuries had no effect on his efforts to hold her tight as he continued to fall.

His initial plan was to shoot an arrow at the building above to land somewhat safely but he then realized how stupid and idiotic that plan truly was, for how could he shoot with only one arm.

The ground was approaching quickly, he had but seconds left to act. He let his cold metallic bow go loose as he let it go and used that other hand to grab at the detonator. He tucked it into his palm, his hand ready to squeeze the button as he then wrapped his other arm around Natasha.

He suddenly thought of a plan, and while it wouldn't exactly work out for everyone, he knew in these last few seconds he had to make a plan and act, this is what he wanted. With that he turned himself around even with the gusts of winds pulling and pushing upon his form, so his back faced the ground they plummeted towards. He held his bleeding wife tightly in his arms, gritting his teeth as the pain of the multiple bullets and cuts shot extreme pain through him. Only a few more seconds, he only had to bear the pain for a few more seconds.

With every last bit of strength he had he held her tightly, rounding his shoulders to almost shield her as he pressed her into his chest. He quickly kissed the top of her head, took one last glance at her, and squeezed the detonator in his hand.

The building ignited, and the two assassins hit the hard ground with a lethally powerful blow. It was just after they hit the ground did the building go up In smoke and flames, and half of Hydras army was whipped out in an instant.

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**Okay...don't really know how I feel about how that turned out, but the more "better written" parts (in my opinion) are soon to come. Again I am posting this as a two shot for now and will continue if you guys like it...**

**Any comments, opinions , or reviews would be amazing and much appreciated. **

**Thanks Again! **


	2. Break My Fall

**Part 2 of this possible two shot, maybe series of shots/I don't know story. Not going to lie when I say I don't hold back in this chapter. I may be a ruthless and even brutal author, but I write intense stuff. Anyway this chapter is not really going to have a lot of character feeling, and that is all for a reason, though there is still plenty. **

**Anyway enough with my chatting, this chapter is also a lot shorter than the other one... **

**Enjoy**

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So here we are, fighting and trying to hide the scars.  
I'll be home tonight, take a breath and softly say goodbye.  
The lonely road, the one that I should try to walk alone.  
I'll be home tonight, take a breath and softly say goodbye.

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Natasha came to about an hour after she blacked out from the shot to her chest, her vision blurred as she tried to comprehend what was around her. Sirens and gun shots blared and she breathed in thick breaths smoke with each raspy inhale she took in. Her chest felt as if it was on fire, as she felt the bullet in her back edge deeper into her with every movement she made. Surrounded by what felt like rubble from the building that had just blown, Natasha felt her whole world spin around her as she kept her eyes open yet remained laying very still so not to make her near lethal wounds worse.

Even with a fatal amount of blood lost, Natasha was starting to comprehend her surroundings and realized she was alive, even after such a fall. She could feel her body aching, crying out for the pain to stop, but it wouldn't. She wanted to scream, yet didn't have the energy nor strength so she simply closed her eyes tight, grit her teeth and buried her bruised and bloodied head right into Clint's shoulder, for she was still in his arms.

She had figured he was still unconscious for he didn't stir as she tucked her head against him, trying to drone out the pain. But something wasn't right, and even with herself almost on the verge of fainting she knew it. While Clint's arm was still holding her, it wasn't firm nor strong as it always was. For even if Clint was unconscious, he'd still always have the tightest hold on her, as if all his strength was devoted to keeping her safe. But his large muscular arm was simply draped limply over her small and practically shaking form.

Natasha didn't think anything of it, for she figured he simply didn't have the strength in that arm seeing he was shot and cut severely on that arm, that was until she placed her own thin hand on his, and felt an unsettling stillness in it. It wasn't like Clint to display such weakness, even if he was unconscious. But it only grew worse and suddenly she felt the pain in her chest ignite violently as she came to a sudden realization.

While her head was buried right into Clint's shoulder, he didn't flinch nor move, and not only that, his whole form didn't move, at all. His large chest which should have been gasping for breath was still. It all started to come at her, each realization hitting her like a bullet to the heart as she held his still hand tighter. Finally, as if desperate, Natasha dared to turn her head, her eyes wide with fear as she placed her ears on his chest.

While her ears buzzed from the force of the explosion, she knew she would have been able to hear his heartbeat, even if it was the most faintest beat of his heart, she would be able to hear it. But there was nothing but the ringing on her ear and silence that came with his still heart.

Natasha was too much in shock to cry, to even react, she simply just kept trying. She mustered all the strength she had to get off his chest which she laid on, and she felt her form slide onto the rocky hard bloodied ground. She wanted to get off him, hoping he'd be fine if she simply got off him and that he would regain his breath and be okay. She looked over his chest urgently, desperately, for any sign, any sign at all. There was nothing but a looming stillness.

She held his hand, never letting go nor lessening the strength she applied to her hold. She half sat half laid next to him for her legs, both of them, had given out on her. She extended a hand and gripped as hard as she could into his shoulder, shaking it firmly, determined to snap him out of his unresponsive status. Her mind knew what had happened, why Clint was not responding nor moving, but she refused to put two and two together. She refused to even think that could have happened, though it was a reality she would soon be forced to accept. But she tried, as her own form grew weary and tired, she tried. With her last wave of strength she shook his form, held his cold limp hand between hers, and looked at it as even though it was blood soaked, a silver ring still shone on his finger, as she wore the matching one on the hand that held his. She held it, trying to wake him, trying to tell him she was there, but it was all in vain.

She didn't have the strength to call out his name, nor did she want to. She knew he was gone, but wouldn't accept it yet, but at the same time she didn't want to be reminded the lifeless man before her was her husband. She didn't want to accept the fact, she didn't want to feel his still pulse, nor look upon what had happened to him. She wanted to shut it out, to forget, to escape all this pain. But she was also stronger than that, and knew she had to.

With that, she reached her thin hand outward to feel his neck, which was slightly cold like the rest of his body. She held a childish foolish hope that she would feel a steady beat under her fingers, even if it was a faint one. But his pulse was still.

Her heart then felt empty, completely numb and cold. She felt as if she too were about to cease from existence, that her heart would follow his in an abrupt stop. But her toughly built form wouldn't give out on her that easily. She had learned to be strong, and so it took every ounce of emotional strength to allow her eyes to gaze upon his full form, and take in what truly had happened.

She felt her breaths growing short yet she found a way to sit herself up, to both take in gasps of oxygen more easily, and to very gently move Clint's still form onto her own lap. He wasn't bleeding really, for most of the blood spilt on the ground was hers. He wasn't as heavy as she had expected and she easily able to slide his upper half right onto her lap. As she moved him with such a gentle and loving touch, despite having to strain her muscles to do so, she noticed his head rolled back as she lifted him off the ground. Carefully she placed a shaking hand right under his neck in a natural act to support him, only to feel what set her heart truly to ache. His neck was snapped in half, and while she didn't know it, it snapped the moment he hit the ground, seeing he landed on his back and took the impact of the fall for her.

She could feel guilt begin to fill her along with the shock and the sorrow. Though almost to her despite it was shock that still took the most hold of her. She still hadn't processed this had actually happened, she still didn't truly understand nor comprehend that her husband was gone. Yet acceptance seemed to be thrust upon her as she gazed at his face. His eyes were not closed but stared lifelessly at the sky above, but they weren't his eyes.

No, for Clint had radiant eyes, a firm noble gaze that was light, and even somewhat loving towards a very select group of people. His grey eyes would bear with determination and strength yet the light blue in his eyes would also shine warm with compassion towards those he cared for. Natasha knew these expressive eyes to be Clint's, not the empty, blank, and glossed over grey eyes that she looked upon now.

With the lightest touch of her hand she lovingly closed his eyes, as she placed the same hand softly on his head. And for the moments she could stay conscious she remained this way, her one hand holding his hand, which both bore the rings that bound their love. Her other hand upon his head, very lightly stroking his hair as she didn't know what else to do. She felt the need to comfort him, maybe because that's what he would always do when she was ever hurt. But he wasn't hurt, he was gone. He didn't feel her soft hand upon his head, trying to draw away all this pain, but she was lost. She didn't know what else to do, for she couldn't cry nor grieve, not yet. She couldn't get up to get help, for she barely at the strength to remain sitting, but she couldn't simply do nothing.

And there she sat, her own condition nearly fatal and growing worse with each passing second. She could hear murmurs of the chaos around here, see blurs of fire and running soldiers. Yet no one seemed to notice the two assassins, bleeding and fighting their own battles for life and sanity. She felt a wave of numb pain rush over her and soon felt as of she was paralyzed. Her head started to drop downward as her shoulders rounded. She couldn't hold herself up, and she felt her gaze begin to go dark. Yet for the last few seconds she remained conscious her bloodied and thin hands never let go of Clint. The world seemed to suddenly spin in slow motion and while her senses were dizzy and blurred, she felt as if this was it for her as well.

This surprisingly gave her almost relief as she felt willing to let herself just fade away beside him. Surely she didn't want to die, but death seemed a lot more peaceful then the hell she was living in now. She was tough, but didn't see a point in fighting anymore. She'd only be fighting to continue on a road she would have to walk alone. The pain suddenly seemed to subside as her world grew dark and she fell over right beside him.

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**So what I was saying earlier was that I didn't go full out on Natasha's reaction because I wanted to aim more at reader's reaction. I put lots of detail to try and aim more towards a reaction from readers, as if You were Natasha. That may sound stupid, and I may have failed miserably in that attempt but I tried anyway. But don't worry there will be plenty of character feeling and emotion in like every other chapter. (If I do continue) **

**Also Cliffhanger there! Mwahaha! Though I honestly am not cruel enough to kill off both my favorite characters...or am I? **

**If your completely depressed now I am sorry...Im a sad writer I know! **

**Anyway please do leave a review or even just a comment if you did like it, again I will continue if some people like it I guess. **


	3. So Cold

**Thank you everyone for all the reviews and follows! It really is encouraging to get such feedback, and would love to hear any comments or even suggestions you have on the story. So I've decided to continue this story for now, and while I can't promise a set updating schedule, I'll try to update as much as I can. This chapter isn't too different from the last one, but it was important I guess. The next chapter will get pretty intense though. I would love to hear any more comments anyone has, but know I will try to update as soon as possible. Enjoy! **

**(Also I wrote this late at night when I couldn't sleep I'm my hotel...so please do not get too upset if there are a few typos) **

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The Shield reinforcements arrived over an hour later, yet as their team got together and landed all their jets and choppers on the ground there was nothing left of the battle but rubble of the exploded base. The surviving enemies had long fled or perished in the flames. The team of Shield agents was strong in numbers for they were expecting a fight, but little did they know the fight had ended the moment that detonator ignited and blew up the building. But they still had a job to do, for two high level Shield agents were last heard from in this mess, and yet not heard from since.

The head of the reinforcement recruits was Maria Hill, also a highly leveled Shield agent and close comrade and partner to the two assassins who they were now searching for. She had tried calling in several times to them on their com-links with no success or answer. As soon as her chopper had touched down she stormed right out of it, eyes a fury as she directed all the agents quickly.

"Listen up, there are two Shield agents, two Avengers somewhere in this mess. I want them found, and I don't care if you have to tear the building down to find them. Contact me if you see any sign of them." She instructed strictly as she raised her own gun and led her own team of 10 men to start their scan around the building.

Her agile and swift pace lead her team onward as she scanned the endless mess of debris and rubble. Fuming smoke billowed the air and she has to squint to see through it. The building in the distance was still half in flames, for the ruins still held an amber glow from the blast. Her feet crunching the weakened blasted bricks around her, she looked around almost desperately yet all with a calm and controlled tone. She was used to intense situations, but this set her on edge. Her two friends stuck out in this shattered hell, it seemed as though it was nearly impossible anyone alive could be here. For moments she simply stayed silent, taking in the sight till she thrust her arm up and said,

"Spread out! My guess is they tried to get out of the building, keep looking."

Her voice was strong but her self asteem and control was starting to weaken. With a clenched jaw and her heart beginning to pound faster she held her gun with her sweating palms, grey eyes focused yet almost hesitant to look, for scared for what she may find.

"God damn it Clint, call me here to rescue your sorry ass, and then disappear on me why don't you." She said out loud, only to help calm her own nerves as she steadied forward.

But Agent Maria Hill was stronger than most saw her to be, and with a deep breath and a short second to recollect herself she continued, eyes sharp and legs fast. Hoping over 7 foot high broken building pieces and right through flaming smoke, the determination raged through her, for she couldn't stand the nagging and haunting thought of her fellow comrades possibly clinging to life as she fooled around trying to find them.

But it was after she pushed aside large chunks of smoking rubble and cleared a few piled up bricks away did she see something under the rubble, a black metallic object. Clearing the rocks and debris to get to it she soon pulled it out only to see it was but a bow. Retractable and with the most sleek and complex design she knew exactly who's weapon this was. Yet as she turned it over in her hands she soon noticed it was stained and dripping in blood. Frantic yet controlled she picked up her pace as. she swiftly leapt over rubble as she called over to her team through her earpiece.

"The far left side of the building, I think I have something, hurry and bring medics."

Yet just as she said that the smoke seemed to clear and there she could see she was standing right in puddle of blood that had pooled up all around the area. She couldn't help but stifle as chocking gasp as her gaze followed the flow of red liquid to where it originated from. Her heart sank as she gazed over the sight as she dropped the bow with a clang on the ruined ground.

Springing into a speeding dash, her eyes widening in fear as she splashed through the pool of blood, for only feet from her laid two still black suited and bleeding forms. Resembling even from a far the agents she was looking for she felt a sense of dread wash over her as she prepared herself for what condition they may be in. The blood was fresh and plentiful, pooling and flowing like a steady river.

As she approached it was Natasha that came into view first. She laid almost on her back, eyes closed and face pale, at first glance she looked good as gone. This made the brunette haired Shield agent freeze in her tracks, her eyes looking at her form as she saw the blood had gushed right from her side, and other bullet wounds. Natasha's form seemed to be almost skinner than usual, if that was possible. Her face gaunt and lifeless and her mouth closed. She was very still, too still.

Hill took a step closer, feeling her own emotions raging at the sight of the agent who she saw as invincible in such condition as she lowered herself to kneel beside her. Dipped in blood that almost felt cold as she looked over Natasha she grabbed at her earpiece with a shaky hand and said the approaching other Agents, her voice firm, almost frantic yet also sounding out of breath and chocking,

"I found them both, and they are in critical condition, get Fury on the line now. And hurry with that medical team."

She waited a moment before getting a response,

"Copy that Agent Hill, we'll be over immediately."

Hanging up she then placed quickly a firm hand right on Natasha's neck, her other shaking hand grabbing at her limp wrist, feeling for a pulse. Hill felt as if though she couldn't even breath for her lungs were tight and no air seemed to be able to escape her, but it was then that she felt it. A faint shallow beat that told the red haired assassin wasn't gone yet. But her pulse was so weak, she knew any breath could be Natasha's last. Resting her on her back to get breaths more easily she didn't want to leave her fellow Agent and friend, but she knew Clint likely wasn't in any better condition than Natasha.

The archer laid right beside Natasha but on his side in an almost unnatural position as if someone had moved him there. As Hill stepped over to him, her boots still splashing up blood as she walked did she notice he was looked absolutely horrible. He looked to have a bullet right in his back, which was oddly curved in, his shoulders rounded slightly. It completely made her want to just loose consciousness with the two assassins, for the sight of the gore and pain that was represented by the two assassins was almost unbearable.

She felt her stomach tighten and her own breaths grow short as she leaned down to look him over. He was a lot paler than Natasha, who was very pale indeed. More still than Natasha, as if this wasn't even Clint, but some lifeless replica of him. Hill couldn't help but want to help him right then and there to shock life right back into him, but as she placed a soft hand on his throat for a pulse, before she could even look for a pulse she noticed his cold touch, and knew even before she didn't feel anything under her fingers, that he was gone. She didn't even act, for she knew he had been gone awhile from his condition, and was far beyond saving.

She closed her grey eyes so she didn't have to bear the sight of it anymore, or face the threat of tears. But as she closed her eyes and slightly bowed her head before the fallen archer, her form suddenly jerked up, realizing she wasn't going to let another one of her friends leave her today. Running over to Natasha she placed a firm hand on one of her bullet wounds, applying pressure and grunting her teeth as she continued to check her vitals and push to stop the bleeding. It was then that the earpiece in her ear buzzed and into her ear did the booming voice of Nick Fury speak.

"Hill, what the hell is going on? First I get a call that Barton called for back up, and now you can't even find them?"

"No sir, I-I found them." She spoke her voice cracking slightly and also somewhat strained for she was still so focused on keeping Natasha alive.

"Okay good, well is the file safe?" He asked almost not even grasping the urgent manner in her voice.

"I have no idea Sir, but the building was blown to bits. We haven't seen a single alive Hydra soldier. But Natasha's in extremely critical condition, multiple lethal shots, and way too much blood loss. I have no idea how she's still alive, but we could loose her at any moment."

"Send her to the main Shield hospital. Best doctors in the country there, if she's got any chance it's there." He said his voice stern yet little did Hill know the stoic director of Shield suddenly felt a rush of dread fill him at that news.

"What about Barton?" He asked suddenly.

"Sir...he's gone..." She spoke her voice lowering with sudden remorse.

There was a long moment of silence, and Hill could have sworn she heard Fury cuss something under his breath, before she heard him reply in a firm, almost angered, yet also quietly almost sad tone.

"Get Natasha to that medical base, keep her alive. I can't afford to loose another one of my finest agents today. I will meet you there." He finished abruptly.

"Copy that Sir." She said finally as her gaze shifted to the medical team that had finally arrived.

She helped them lift Natasha, who was nearly half her normal weight onto a gurney, slipping several IV fluids and blood supplies right into her, as well as an oxygen mask. As soon as Hill made sure she was still as stable as she was before she cued the team to bring her right back to the jet, to fly her directly to the hospital Fury ordered. They moved swiftly and soon the unconscious and unresponsive Russian was on her way to that hospital.

Hill remained behind to help remove Clint from the broken and ravaged battle grounds. She helped lift him also on a gurney, though they had no need to rush to get any medications or life support. As the smaller built brunette agent found it easy to lift the very muscularly built agent, she found it to be surprisingly easy, due again to his loss of blood. But just like Natasha had noticed earlier as she moved him his head rolled back, unstably lolling back against his neck. She also felt his back was completely shattered, his spine cracked for what it seemed.

A clenching pain arose in her chest as she walked off just as they draped a sheet over him. Grabbing his bow as she walked away, for she knew no one would think to grab it, she walked on trying to forget she was even holding it. Unable to look back, or forward even the agent ran to another plane, boarding it without instruction or direction to her pilots as she simply walked as fast as she could to a back room in the plane, locking herself in it, and half collapsing as she sat in a chair. Dropping her gun and bow with a clank she felt her emotions start to finally get the best of her.

She only let a few short tears fall, yet she shook violently the whole trip to the hospital. She shut all the windows, feeling as though she was about to pass out, and the light burning her eyes she sat down, head in her hands as she took in a few raspy and deeply forced breaths to try and stay calm.

But it was no use, her body demanded to rage out, to react to these emotions. She felt like she was going unconscious and honestly wanted to, but never did. Instead she simply sat there, cold and alone, feeling as if though this were all just some great nightmare, and that she would wake up to the acceptable and tolerable reality. For being an agent she knew life wasn't perfect, but she never thought that one day could take such a cold route, and leave her whole life impacted.

And yet she couldn't help but continue to succumb and fall under her crushing emotions that the two people she had worked with for a good amount of her life were going through this. That one of her only friends may die at any moment, and that the man she had known since had started Shield was gone. It was all too much for acceptance, yet Maria balled her fists, wanting, pleading for acceptance. It wasn't nearly this hard with Coulson, so why was it now. She tried to accept it all, so she could actually comprehend what was around her but in truth she was incapable of accepting such a thing yet. Yet as the events kept replaying in the Agents head she couldn't help but remember she wasn't the most hurt, the most debased or broken in this situation. No, for her heart suddenly went out to the young women who's own life was on the brink of death, and who may not only loose her life, but had already lost her love. The Black Widow, now truly a widow herself.

Yet as Agent Hill took in the events that had unfolded, so did all of Shield as medics rushed to prepare for the female assassins arrival. They didn't even know if she would survive the flight over, but they sure as heck would be ready for her either way. And a furious and enraged yet devastated director of Shield called out to the rest of the Avengers. Informing them all of the events, and flying everyone out to the hospital where all of them were heading.

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**Okay yeah so again kinda similar to the last chapter only in Agent Hills prospective. I personally really like Maria Hill and feel as if though she would probably have had a really close relationship with these two. Idk maybe I'll eventually have a flashback explaining their relationships further. **

**Anyway again I told you it's not going to be a happy story XD but if you like good tragedy, feels, and angst I guess your in the right place.**

**Please do leave a comment, opinion, suggestion, or even ways I can improve. I would greatly appreciate any feedback! Thanks and I'll try to update soon. **


	4. I Owe Him A Debt

**Sorry this took so long to get up. It is very long I will warn you, but I worked very hard on it. This certain chapter is wrote in Natasha's point of view following right after she reaches the hospital in very critical condition. All the Avengers are here and very worried about her, and it goes through a lot of character feelings you could say. **

**This chapter is inspired by the brilliant and beautifully written novel, If I Stay by Gayle Forman **

**Also to those who are sad by the events that happen in the story know I am planning to include many Clint/Natasha flashbacks. And this story is meant to be more on the emotional and saddened yet deeply feesly side, so I ask you keep that in mind. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter **

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_Natasha's Point of View_

There was a steady beat to the heart rate monitor as it beeped slowly. The room was too empty, besides the surgeons that is. Metallic and white, a glaring sheen of bright light beaming right into my eyes. It shouldn't have effected my eyes the way it did, seeing I didn't even know where I was, or wether I was actually in a psychical place. But it was a brutal white light, plain and sharp, piercing my eyes and creating a burning sensation. There was a sense of chaos and structure, of hot pain and cold emptiness, of thriving life and fading death. And here I stood, in the midsts of it all, even more empty than the room itself.

I stood firmly right in the OR, but the funny thing is I didn't even know how I had gotten here. For the last I remembered I had passed out right after the fall, but then here I was, standing right over my broken and bleeding body that the Shield doctors worked on rapidly.

Of course my immediate reaction was that I was dead, that I was fully detached from what remained of my body and that I was simply some sort of spirit now. But then several factors soon contradicted that theory rather quickly. My vitals while weak were still present and beeping with a shrill that rang through the echoey shining cold room. If I was dead, the doctors wouldn't be scrambling madly, to try and stop the flow of blood and to repair all my broken muscles and bones, that was unless these doctors were very serious about autopsies. But the most evident factor, that proved I wasn't dead, not yet at least, was that I was all alone.

No, if I was truly gone, and the events that happened earlier were true, Clint Barton would be here as well. I was certain of that, as certain as I was of our love. But he was no where to be found, Infact there was no one to be found. I turned around on my heel, my eyes frantically scanning the large room, but there was no one here but the surgeons, and me.

I was still in shock, for while being separated from my body could have easily set me on edge, there was also the looming reality, that haunted me. Yet emotions raged through me, I could feel myself growing lightheaded with the Effort of trying to wrap my thoughts around everything. So I thought out everything I knew, all the facts I held true in my head, as I stood there, slowly backing up from the surgeons and my psychical body to leave the gory sight.

I am Natasha Romanoff Barton

An Agent of Shield

A Master Assassin

An Avenger

I was a Russian

But I'm not anymore...

I have red in my ledger

I'm not a good person

I have a few friends

They aren't here right now

I am alone.

I am loved.

I was saved.

I have many debts to pay

But I'm as good as broke.

I am a wife

No, a Widow.

I am broken.

Psychically

And I'm pretty sure mentally.

I am not dead

Not yet.

I don't want to be alive

Not anymore.

The one I love is dead

And it is my fault.

I owe him.

I am alone.

As I thought through these thoughts, I continued to step back. My hands trembling, my breathing heavy. I knew I wasn't psychically in my body, but it just proved what I already knew, my soul was damaged as well. I wanted to run away, but couldn't, so I stepped away slowly till my hand felt the cold wall. It seemed to burn, kinda like how ice does if you hold it too long. But then again, I was already numb as I backed up into the wall and slid down.

I crouched on the ground, grabbing my knees carefully and keeping my eyes locked on the now blurry forms of the surgeons. The ground was cold, the air was frigid. It burned my lungs, simply because it was a reminder that I was still alive.

I felt as if the pressure of all my thoughts, of all my sins and of all my regrets were now trampling this mental form of myself. I gripped myself tighter, but I couldn't feel my hands around my legs. My vision was growing dim, and I felt my consciousness doing the same. I shook my head, tightening my muscles as I suddenly spoke again, in a tone quieter than a whisper,

"H-how did we get here..."

I had to stop, to take a breath for it seemed all my strength, my mental strength that is, was fading quickly. I saw the sharp lights grow softer, and I let out a large heave of a sigh, feeling the heavy pressure weigh me down as I grasped my next words.

"Just let me go. Please, just let me go. I don't want this."

But before I could even make sense of what I gasped out, the soft lights grew dim, and I blacked out once again.

I came to sometime later, no longer in the horrid Operating room thankfully. No, this room didn't reek of blood and didn't glare with intense pressure. But was a quaint dimly light hospital room, where I stood still disconnected from my unresponsive psychical form, which lay in the bed before me.

While I wasn't bleeding anymore, I looked liked shit, practically unrecognizable really. Tubes, IV's, and all sorts of medical devices all around and attached to me. With oxygen masks, and life support, it was clear I was only clinging to life due to those devices.

I was disappointed to be still heaving such a burden of a life around. To still accompany my damn dysfunctional body, even though I obviously wasn't attached to it at the moment.

It seemed like days, though I doubt it really was that long, before anyone besides doctors and nurses came in the room. But the moment he opened the door, my eyes shot up, and for a moment hope even filled my empty form. For in, with a calm and almost hesitant manner, approached Bruce Banner.

Despite being the "heartless" and "strong" Black Widow, I wanted to run right up and hug the doctor. Just seeing a familiar face, a friend, seemed to ignite that little bit of compassion I held within me. He approached me, with warm eyes and a respectfully calm demeanor. For being always filled with rage, as he claimed he was, I couldn't ask for a more calmer man. His movements were soft, and his expressions while saddened, were relaxed. It made me feel a small sense of serenity, if that was even possible.

He took a seat besides me, well my psychical form that is. His position just as relaxed, but also slouched calmly, his head lowered a little, as if in thought as he interlocked his fingers that lay on his knees. I sat down on a chair close to him, and just gazed at him.

After awhile of peaceful silence he spoke, his voice just as soft. Yet it was respectfully saddened, as he spoke,

"Natasha...I know there's a good chance you can't even hear me, but what else am I suppose to do. Your in an unresponsive status, almost like a coma, but not exactly one. Its complicated really, but rather than bore you with science terms, let me get to the point."

While part of me wanted to block out what he was going to say, knowing he would likely beg me to stay alive or something like that, there was something in the genuine calm tone of his voice that drew me to listen.

"The mind is the most powerful thing on this planet. And while that may sound like a stretch, consider this. It's the mind that created weapons, and super soldiers. The mind that conducts a war, the mind that shaped humanity as it is. I've learned that, maybe the hard way. But if I can control myself, and the other guy...you can control what happens to you. There is equipment here, technology and devices, that will keep you alive for the time being. But in the end, you'll need the will to live, to survive."

Letting out a huff, I shook my head and looked away from Bruce, feeling the hope I once felt drain. Didn't he understand I didn't have the will to live anymore? But no how could he...after all everyone saw me as this strong, never effected by emotions, assassin.

Well it was foolish of them to think that way, for like as Bruce spoke of, my mind was overly powerful. To the point it was breaking me now, and as the gentle doctor squeezed my hand warmly and walked out, I regretfully sighed, knowing I probably wouldn't ever see him again, not alive at least.

Thor came in next, with a less stoic as usual manner. He was dressed in normal Asgardian wear, and it looked as if he had just arrived from there. He had a rather blank look to his roughly expressed face as he strode up to me, but he didn't take a calm seat like the gentle doctor did. No he stood strongly above me, looking down upon my weak form as he spoke suddenly, his voice booming through the room,

"Natasha, I have come to this realm of Earth upon hearing the news of your condition. While your welfare is not in my hands, know both myself and all of Asgard, pray for you to recover."

The compassion in his deep usually emotionless voice really hit me, to see the God of Thunder so troubled, really made me want to look away honestly. His deep blue eyes while powerful as usual looked as if though they were glossed with tears, which only made me feel even worse...

"You are but the strongest mortal I have ever met, but your battle is not over yet my friend. And for while you may wake to grief, your strength will prevail."

His words were short and simple, but they sent both guilt and strength through me. For he was praising me of being this great strong human, but in truth I wasn't. For I was planning to take the easy, the weak way out, and give up the fight. I didn't deserve the words he spoke, but I couldn't help but feel a small bit of self power from his few words. I was grateful of the God's arrival, and of his words.

Tony came in next, I guess I was to assume all of the Avengers were here to visit me. While the last two Avengers had been respectful even calm to some degree, Tony was the complete opposite. It was hard to tell wether he was filled with rage, sorrow, or shock, but he was a mess. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, his eyes bloodshot and his movements stiff. His jaw was clenched and his breath almost as heavy as mine as he approached. His eyes seemed to look down as he stiffly pulled up a chair, avoiding looking at me.

For a long time there was only silence, as I sat beside him, my eyes focused on him, but his own eyes looking down at the floor. He looked like he was completely blank of thoughts and of emotion, but there was many hints of sorrow and guilt in his eyes. His knuckles were white as his hands were clenched tightly, and his whole expression was stressed and troubled.

But before I could analyze this any further, Tony sprang right out of his seat, his sharp and desperate eyes upon me as he suddenly outstretched his hand, pointing his finger right at my psychical form as he spoke quickly and almost harshly,

"Alright Nat enough of the soft talk, because I'm sure you got plenty of that from the other two. They say I'm suppose to be calm around you, but how the hell am I suppose to do that? Because if you think your the only one suffering here, the only one messed up, your sorely mistaken."

The sharp manner of his voice truly did catch me off guard, putting me on edge. And while my fists were clenched in despite, I couldn't help but relate to what he spoke. For who was I to judge Tony for acting abrupt and almost cold, when I would probably be the same way if our roles were reversed. So I listened, as he caught his breath and continued, his stare on my form unforgiving almost.

"They say this whole "If you lived or if you die" thing is All up to you. A lot of pressure yeah, but I'm sure you know the obvious answer you have to choose. Because you can't leave. You just can't Agent Romanoff, and while my claim may sound selfish, think about how even more selfish your decision is."

As he spoke I felt a fire grow within me, suddenly I wanted to punch Tony clear in the face. The nerve he had, to call me selfish for leaving when the life I would be waking up to would be a complete hell. Sure my life was never perfect, but at least before I had a reason to live, to fight on. His words were selfish, and they hurt as well. But it wasn't until he spoke his final claim, that I started to see reason in what he had to say.

"You owe it to him Natasha. And I'm not talking about your little, "I owe him a debt for sparing my life" thing. I mean, he gave his life for you, and you at least owe it to him to keep that life. Don't let his actions, his sacrifice, go to waste."

His words were direct and stern, no hint of his usual sarcastic or cocky was found. No he was dead serious, and I could feel his mad determination intensify as he spun right around and walked as quickly as he could out of the room. I still felt a heat of anger towards him, but his words sunk into me suddenly, and while they didn't change my mind, I felt another greater weight of guilt fill me. Wherever he was, Clint was most likely furious at me for my decision, but he would understand soon.

That was one of the things I had always loved about him, for while he was stubborn to his own opinion's, he always found a way to see my point of view, and unlike others he respected it. He would be mad at me most likely, but he would get over it quickly. After all, he was used to me not following orders, especially his. And he can't blame me for not wanting to live in a world without him.

Finally Steve came in, his movements careful and his gestures just as gentle as Bruce's. Out of all of the Avengers, besides Clint, I felt the closest to Steve. We were good friends, and it almost pained me to see him. But at the same time, it gave me a sense of relief, of comfort.

He slowly approached me, pulling up a chair, and unlike the others who came in before, he wasn't afraid to look at me. His soft blue eyes were filled with compassion I could feel, yet also a haunting worry. But he was very controlled and didn't rage with emotions like the others, or at least he didn't let his emotions show. Which I was grateful of.

I sat right across from him, looking deeply at him as he wasted no time gently reaching over my broken form and sliding his own strong hands under my weak cold ones. I closed my eyes, focusing on him and reaching, hoping to feel his ever so gentle touch. But I was still disconnected from my physical form, and so couldn't feel his touch.

But he simply held it for a moment, head down as he grasped it firmly yet with care. His own hand gently stroked mine, and he continued to hold it as he began to speak,

"Natasha...god what a day it's been. Be happy your not awake to see this mess, ever since it all happened Tony has been half drunk half in shock. Thor's threatened to beat the shit out of Fury for sending you into that mission, and lets just say Bruce wasn't as calm earlier as he was when he came in to see you. We're a hot mess Nat, but I can't imagine the mess your in yourself."

There was a small pause in his calm and hushed yet still audible voice as he looked up at the beeping monitors, his eyes almost light in sorrow as he comprehended the shallow rhythm to my breathing.

"Look Bruce says you can most likely hear, maybe even see me, but I don't know what to believe anymore. This all goes beyond even the most complex of Sciences, and maybe that's why everyone is having such a hard time. They are used to logical solutions, to a defiant answer. But this is beyond us all."

His words while making some sense felt slightly out of place, but knowing Steve he would likely follow them with a psychological monologue. Normally I would have rolled my eyes at his little wise speeches, but I was truly invested in every meaningful word that came from the super soldier's mouth.

"I don't know everything, I'm not you and won't ever be able to know what your feeling, but I do know this; you are not alone. You may feel alone, but you never were, and never will be. You still have people who love you Nat, and we may not love you as deeply as he did, but we love you nonetheless. We'll be there for you, every single step of the way, so don't even think for a moment your alone. And he's still with you Nat...I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But we're all with you, Me, Tony, Thor, Bruce, Fury, Hill, Coulson, even Sam and Pepper. We're all here for you...and Clint is too, he always will be, just not psychically."

It got me thinking, his words while chocked out with gasps of heavy sighs, held depth and I started to feel a sense of regret on my decision. I did love Steve, and Tony, and Bruce, and all of them. Suddenly the thought of leaving them behind grows in me, and its a heavy pain that is almost as brutal as the grief I felt. I knew subconsciously they were always there for me, but hearing Steve's words really made me believe it. Right then a war of conflicting feelings fired within me, and I had to grasp my legs and tuck myself in a confined position just to keep from loosing myself. I realized then that being mentally strong is about a thousand times harder than being psychically strong.

"But...Nat I'd let you go...I want you to be content, to be happy. And I know Clint would want you to be happy too. He gave his life for you, to make that decision. He chose his actions, and know you'll have to make a choice yourself. This is your life, and your decision, and no one but you can decide."

Before I could take in all he said he stood up quickly, and I could see as I lifted my head heavily his blue eyes were fogged with small tears. He softly placed my hand back on the bed, and quickly with the most gentle hand touched my pale cold cheek lightly.

"I'll miss you like hell, if you do choose what I think your going to...but know your still loved. No matter what happens, you'll always be."

He left after that, without another word or even glance. I didn't want him to leave, in fact I leapt out of my chair and raced after him but it seems that suddenly I'm bound to stay wherever my psychical form is. I strained but it was no use, and I was but alone again.

Feeling the walls close in around me I felt weaker than ever before, as if everything I had left was just slowly slipping away. I was able to stagger back to the chair, but the lights around me were growing brighter. Sounds of the machines were growing muffled, and I felt empty. Was this is? Had my mind subconsciously made up it's mind and I would soon fade right into an oblivion?

But I hadn't made up my mind...no after all that something pulled me towards reconnecting with my broken body. It wasn't just Steve's words, but all of theirs. It all came at me all at once, I really wasn't alone. But was it worth it to stay?

It suddenly came to me, this wasn't about me. It was about the man who gave his life for me, the only one who truly loved me, and the call me made. No. I couldn't leave, not until I repaid everything he gave me. For it seemed no matter how hard I tried, I was still in his debt. Clint would want me to live, to fight on. I owed it to him to keep the life he spared, loved, and saved. For how else was I suppose to repay him...

The lights grew brighter and my thoughts deeper. I couldn't tell what was going on in the room, or if I was still even in the room. No, I couldn't fade away, not anymore. I wanted to live, to fight another day. I felt the fire of determination that usually raged deep within me spark and I fought, for my life. I couldn't save him, but I will live for him.

With that the lights went too bright and I could feel my conscious fading, but not my fire. As my last moments of consciousness drifted I spoke up, my tone dying but yet strong till the end,

"Forgive me Clint."

I felt a sense of uplifting warmth, of a distance growing from myself and this world, and a force beyond anything else I have ever felt. Then all went blank.

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**Oops a Cliffhanger again...sorry about that XD! But I will be updating this story again very soon. **

**I know this chapter was long and very detailed but the next one will be a lot shorter. **

**I would appreciate so much if you could simply leave any feedback, suggestions, criticisms, anything at all! Hearing if you like or dislike this story really does help to motivate me to write more, and the more feedback and advice I get the more I can hopefully improve. So if you have the time I would appreciate any reviews. **

**Thanks Again!**


	5. I'm Saying Goodbye

**So sorry for not having updated in awhile. I'm very busy with school now starting but I will try to update as often as I can. **

**This next chapter is probably the saddest one I've written, even though the whole thing is basically sad! But this one really got me personally when I was developing the concept for this chapter. **

**I want to say, to those who have said I am "evil" and "souless" know I love these characters and am simply trying to display a rather emotional story, to really show the emotions of these characters. Also I love to write deeper more serious and even sad stories, so please if you do not want to have an overload of feels, don't read this. But if you do enjoy feelsy, emotional, hurt/comfort, and angst stories this is what your looking for. **

**This chapter like all the other one's I've written is long...and took over a few weeks to write so I do hope you enjoy. I'd love to hear any comments anyone has, but also I simply hope you are enjoying it so far. **

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Natasha was released from the hospital a day later. The doctors couldn't explain her sudden and extremely quick recovery, but she was released and Steve took her back to his place. He didn't want Natasha to stay at her house alone, and so insisted she stayed with him and Tony till she got a little emotionally better. She didn't really agree nor refuse so he went ahead and made sure she came home with him.

She didn't talk much, at all. Steve would talk to her, and she acted like she didn't even hear him half the time. She wouldn't eat, and barley drank anything. She would hardly sleep either, that was unless she psychically couldn't stay awake. Steve grew naturally worried for her, but knew nothing but time and acceptance would be able to help her. But on those long nights, where she would sit by herself in a chair, looking out at the night sky from an open window. And the breeze would come rushing in and make her shiver slightly, Steve would lay a small blanket over her shoulder or give her a warm cup of tea. He would never leave her side, at least when she was alone. For over the past couple days he had grown extremely protective of the young widowed assassin, and while he noticed she was being remarkably strong, for she hadn't cried nor even broken down once, he wanted to always be there for her.

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The room was cold, barren, and echoey. The bitter chill to the air, would send a shiver up anyone's spine, but to agent Natasha Romanoff, everything seemed much more intense, and sharp. Yet, the cold was the last thing that was bothering her. For in the lobby like room, with Steve and Bruce, she sat quietly without speaking a single word. She sat very tall and properly in the chair, yet her posture was stiff and firm, and her gaze looking towards practically nothing. Eyes focused on empty space, yet her whole form almost unreadable, it was nearly impossible to tell at this point, that she was mentally unstable.

The recent events of accepting reality almost made her in a way more psychically stable, but now she fully shut out everyone around her, including her two friends who sat beside her. For her eyes were no longer struggling to hold back small tears, nor did she seem dysfunctional or confused. But that didn't mean she wasn't grieving or broken on the inside. The shock had long worn off, and now Natasha didn't even have the slightest trouble in shutting the world out.

Everyone knew today would be rough, especially on Natasha. For today was Clint Barton's funeral, and but all of Shield was required to attend. Formal procedures such as funerals were handled very carefully by Shield, and everyone knew what to expect. With the recent passing of Shield founder Peggy Carter less than a year ago, Steve and all the Avengers knew the formalities would be both honoring, and a pain. Long speeches spoken by people who didn't even know the deceased, and other nonsense that Steve knew would only upset both himself and Nat. Nearly cringing at the thought, he looked around the rather empty room to both Bruce, who sat also very silently and deep in thought, and then Nat who continued to hold her head high yet her eyes were still sharply distant.

Steve wore a very formal black suit, with a ironed straight white shirt and an ebony black tie. His blonde hair very nicely combed back, he looked very sharp indeed. Bruce wore a rather older more worn black jacket, yet looked very nice and professional as well. Tony had elected to arrive later, and while Steve knew he was still unstable, Pepper assured him that she would make sure Tony come on time for the actual ceremony. Shield also received contact from Thor that he would attend.

But of all the people who gathered in this room, surprisingly the most calm was Natasha. For unlike Steve who kept rushing out of his chair to talk to agents or Bruce who was muttering under his breath and occasionally stepping into the negotiations, Natasha just sat there. Calm, quiet, most likely deep in thought, though she never showed it. She hadn't moved from the seat she first sat down in since she came in, but she didn't seem nervous. Of course it didn't mean she wasn't upset, but she wasn't frantic like the others. She still hadn't spoken a word, to anyone all day. Ever since she was released from the hospital, while she seemed to be out of her state of shock, she had barely spoken at all. She'd occasionally get to about 2 words at a time, but it was rare even to get that.

There she sat though, thin pale hands laid calmly over her crossed legs as she sat tall and almost professionally. Her red locks were straightened and reflected the glow of the golden morning light tinting it a radiant amber color. She wore a sleek black dress, the silver arrow necklace Clint had given to her, and her wedding ring. As she continued to wait in silence her gaze would vary from staring out the glass window, to out in space, or down at her folded hands.

It seemed like hours she was waiting before Steve finally came back out with a rather upset looking Nick Fury with him. Little did Natasha know Steve was arguing with Fury for the past half an hour to rearrange the protocols of the service to make it all easier on Natasha. While Fury was very stubborn and reluctant, he finally agreed to Steve's terms. Natasha's eyes quickly darted towards them in a sharp stare, but her form relaxed just slightly when she saw Steve.

Shutting the door behind him, Nick pulled up a chair to sit down next to the assassin as he took a breath and spoke up in his usual gruff voice,

"Agent Romanoff, I apologize for the wait but Steve had a few last minute requests. But all the arrangements have been made, and there's nothing you got to worry about or take care of."

Steve interrupted him quickly and said, "It's all going to be alright Nat...is there anything _you _want though?"

It took a moment for her to reply, but as she turned her profile to look to the blue sky outside and her sharp eyes focused on the sky above she spoke up, her voice distant and raspy,

"Yes. Can I see him?"

Her request took Nick Fury by surprise, for he thought that would be the last thing she would want to do, but he didn't refuse. He turned around to Steve and spoke quickly,

"Very well than, Rogers you can escort her please?" He asked as he turned on his heel, handed him a set of keys and walked away without another word.

The walk down the long yet empty Shield hallway was silent, as Steve continued to look back at Natasha to make sure she was okay. Her head was bowed and her eyes on the floor, yet she remained right behind him, just as silent as always. As they rounded the corner they came to a large set of metallic doors, Steve took a breath and carefully unlocked it as he turned to Natasha and slowly placed a hand on her shoulder,

"You want me to come in with you?" He asked in a barely audible tone as he gently tried to catch her gaze.

She softly shook her head and seemed to take a moment to collect herself before saying in her dry yet softly solemn tone, "No. I'd like to be alone..."

Steve didn't think it was the best of ideas for Natasha to go in by herself but didn't argue any further with her as he opened the large doors for her and quietly shut them behind her.

Keeping her head still down she walked at a swift and strong pace, her black heels clinking on the metallic floor as she clutched her pale white hands. This room was warmer in temperature and more confined but that didn't make her feel but one bit better. As she approached the front of the room she willed herself to raise her head upward, to look right upon a beautifully crafted dark wooden casket, in which her husband laid.

The thought of it all made her head spin, made her want to get sick to her stomach. Break down right here, and fade away so she wouldn't have to face this. But she didn't back away, or break down. No she had told herself, promised herself, she would be strong, like she always was. And while her footsteps grew slower, and her eyes began to loose their sharp seriousness, she walked right up to him. Jaw clenched tight, posture stiff, and eyes widening, it took every ounce of strength she had to keep herself together.

He wore a fitting dark black suit, the same one he wore to his wedding, and really the only suit he owned. For Clint never had a ridiculous amount of money, and the money he did have, surely wouldn't be spent on fancy suits. It was almost hard at first for Natasha to even process it was him, for the last she had saw him was after the fall when they were both bloodied and scarred. In fact He didn't even look like he had died in battle, for there was not a scar or even mark to be seen on him. But as Natasha finally got closer she almost had to stop dead in her tracks. For while he didn't look like his usual scarred and beaten self, he defiantly looked like himself. With his nicely combed brownish blonde hair and gentle features, there was no doubt in the world that this was Clint Barton. Yet he was too still, and to Natasha it all seemed unreal, like some cruel dream.

He was abnormally pale, his chest completely still, and his eyes firmly closed. This wasn't like seeing him injured, asleep, or even unconscious, because he was gone. Completely. There wasn't a single sign of life or existence to be found on his still form, it made Natasha want to reject that the man who lay before her was Clint. But he was, and it took Natasha at least five minutes of simply trying to believe this, to get a grip on herself. Taking a deep inhale, she placed her hands upon the edge of the coffin for stability as she tilted her head downward, and suddenly was gazing upon his pale hands, which were folded over his torso. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of agonizing pain when she saw his silver ring, and she looked down to her own just as she shut her eyes to keep away the tears that threatened to build up.

Out of no where she took another quick inhale, clenched her jaw and tried to blink away the incoming tears as she looked upward so she didn't have to look at him and spoke.

"God damnit Clint...you always rambled on about how I would outlive you...I guess I just thought you were, I don't know, joking..."

She tried to talk as she usually would, dry and raspy but with her fiery tone, but as soon as she began to talk her voice cracked. She had to take several breaths between words, but she continued to keep herself contained. She took a quick moment to attempt to calm herself before speaking up again,

"But now, I mean your...gone. And I-I don't know what to do."

There was strain in her voice, to try to hide the desperate pain and overwhelming sorrow. After a few sentences she gave up completely on trying to keep her usual strong and fiery voice, and focused on staying strong enough to actually talk.

"Clint, I thought I was strong. My whole life has been a nightmare, and only you truly know that, know what I've been through. But _this,_ IS the hardest thing I will ever go through. I already know that. Hell, I don't even know if I'll be able to get through this, it's all just overwhelming to think about really..."

Her voice trailed off and as she continued she found herself talking more casually, for as she looked upward and forgot her emotions. She knew subconsciously, this would be the last time she saw him, but she just tried to stay strong for the few moments she could. Her tone for a brief moment even turned almost lightly conversational as she continued under her breath.

"I can't even imagine, a day without you, nonetheless a lifetime. But you had your plans, and while I don't understand why it had to be this way...I will be as strong as I can, alright? I can't live without you, but I'll try to survive, for the time being at least. But I won't forget you Clint, and hell even if your still half deaf and can't hear a word I'm saying now, please...don't forget me."

She ended with the faintest low laugh as she could only imagine what his response would be, but just as she felt herself calm slightly, she looked down upon him once more. This time the words came out like daggers, each letter piercing her heart as she realized he maybe couldn't even hear her at all.

"You gave me my life back, and I...only owe it to you to be strong."

She grasped her thin and shaking hands, her finger rubbing her silver ring as she felt a streak of a tear run down her face, and she didn't even have the will to stop it.

"I'll miss you...like hell. But its just...I..."

She suddenly felt it all build up within her, the tears began to ran out slowly but endlessly. Her legs gave out beneath her and she practically collapsed to the cold hard floor. All her thoughts suffocated her as she gasped for breaths and put her head in her hands. For what seemed like hours, she kneeled there, softly sobbing beside him, and feeling lost and utterly alone.

Consumed in fear, agony, sorrow, and compassion, she felt small. Weak. Helpless. She didn't know how long she was on the floor, weeping to herself, but she knew she wasn't being strong. Her husband, her dearest friend and partner, was strong enough to die for her. Strong enough to disobey Fury and save her, all those years ago. And she couldn't repay him like this, by crying pathetically over his death. It was selfish of her really, for while she was here to show her respect and compassion for him, she was now spending most of the time crying to herself.

But after several long moments of allowing for once all her emotions to get the better of her, the assassin got slowly to her feet, as she took several large and long breaths to calm herself. She eventually stopped shaking and crying, for while it was hard she was able to recollect herself within seconds. For she was used to being strong when she had to, and while she did break down, it really did only last a matter of minutes. Yet she still held back tears which made her sharp eyes gleam as she took one final breath and spoke at last, her voice almost inaudible and cracked,

"Why'd you have to do this to me, Clint?"

It was the only words she could get out, and she knew her time was dwindling. After all, the other agents and avengers had already long paid their respects to their fallen partner and fellow agent, and the actual service would start very soon. Natasha didn't like being put under the clock, nor did she think any amount of time would be enough for her to sat goodbye. She would never be ready to walk away and move on, to continue with her life. But she had to, and she knew that. For she had already decided she would live, even if it meant without him and so she couldn't go back now. While Natasha usually never carried a purse, she did today over her shoulder. She carefully slipped her hand into the bag and pulled out a long sleek black metallic arrow. She looked down at the arrow, seeing her own reflection in it's black surface as she gripped it tightly for a moment and then carefully slid it into the coffin beside him as she spoke half under her breath,

"You may not know this, but well...when they found us you had 2 arrows left. You take this one, and I'll hang onto the other one for a bit."

Finally she placed the most gentlest hand upon his head, as she softly stroked his hair one last time and closed her eyes which were gleaming with not only sorrow but a haunting fear. But to what that fear was, she would never speak to anyone. She leaned over and lovingly kissed his forehead which was cold against her touch. She knew he was gone, but she loved him after all, and even if he wasn't alive to feel her kiss, she wanted to say goodbye with an act of compassion, in which the Black Widow rarely showed to anyone.

She didn't look down at him again, but she did see out of the corner of her eye that his bow was also placed in the coffin with him. It took literally all her emotional and psychical strength to pull down the top of coffin, and close it. The moment it closed she turned around on her heel, and without a slight hesitation, word, or even glance back walked away. Her head held tall, with the arrow on her necklace shining to reflect the lights in the room around her, she walked smoothly and strongly out of the room. She would remain strong for now, for she already broke down, and said her goodbye. Yet even while returned to her quiet yet strong and distant gaze and tone, she was breaking, slowly and painfully on the inside. But she wouldn't fall, nor would she give up. Not today, and not any from then on. Because while Natasha was far from religious or spiritual, she did believe that he was somehow, in someway or another, still with her, and still loved her.

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**Yeah...probably the best written chapter, at least I think, but also probably the most depressing one too. My friend helped me edit and brainstorm ideas for this chapter, and even though it's EXTREMELY feelsy and emotional and depressing, I think it turned out okay. I apologize if there are any typos. **

** Anyway I am really appreciative and grateful of all those who have kept up with this story so far. This chapter was suppose to be something totally different but yeah I changed it. I hope you are enjoying it. I would be very thankful if anyone left a short review or comment saying what they liked (and even disliked) about this chapter. Again I want to please my readers, so if you have any suggestions let me know! **

**Thanks Again! I'll try to update as soon as I can, but it may start turning, after a few more chapters, into like series of one shots. **


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